


Better Be...

by FantasticNumberNine



Series: John Watson and the Philosopher's Stone [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Sorting (Harry Potter), Crossover, Gen, No troll wrestling, Potterlock, Sorting Ceremony
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-05
Updated: 2014-07-05
Packaged: 2018-02-07 15:12:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1903704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FantasticNumberNine/pseuds/FantasticNumberNine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John Watson has made it to Hogwarts, and now has to face the dreaded Sorting Ceremony. He's a bundle of nerves, and is positive they'll decide he doesn't belong and send him home. But he's the boy-who-lived. If he doesn't belong at Hogwarts, who does? </p><p>(Let's pretend we don't all know how this is going to end...)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Better Be...

**Author's Note:**

> The second installment of John Watson as the boy-who-lived.
> 
> Some bits here are borrowed directly from the book, and are evidently not mine (like the characters and scenery).

"All we've got to do is try on a hat? And Fred and George were going on about wrestling a troll. Prats."

John gave Greg a nervous smile--yes, a hat was better than wrestling a troll, but how was a hat going to decide which house he belonged in? It was a bloody hat! 

Professor McGonagall lead the single filed first years into the great hall and John momentarily forgot about the sorting in favor of the ceiling, or rather, the apparent lack thereof. The hall appeared to be open to the elements, and John couldn't help but think it would be rather inconvenient in a few weeks. 

"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,  
But don't judge on what you see,  
I'll eat myself if you can find  
A smarter hat then me."

John had been so preoccupied with the night sky above that he missed Professor McGonagall setting a battered old wizard's hat on a four-legged stool, and now it had started to sing. 

"There's nothing hidden in your head  
The Sorting Hat can't see--"

Wait, it would be looking inside his head? 

"You might belong in Gryffindor,  
Where dwell the brave at heart--"

Hagrid had said his parents had been in Gryffindor, but was he as brave as his parents? He wasn't sure. 

"Those patient Hufflepuffs are true,  
And unafraid of toil;  
Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,  
If you've a ready mind--"

Moriarty had scoffed at Hufflepuff at their robe-fittings, but did he care about Jim Moriarty's opinion? Maybe Ravenclaw?

"Or perhaps in Slytherin,  
Where you'll meet your real friends,  
Those cunning folk use any means,  
To achieve their ends--"

Slytherin. Voldemort had been in Slytherin. But McGonagall had said that all the houses had their merit. But a Slytherin had killed his parents. And Moriarty had said his whole family had been Slytherin. The hall burst into applause, John following suit a beat behind. Where did he belong? And what if he didn't belong anywhere?

"Hufflepuff!"

She looked nice... He hadn't heard her name, but the Hufflepuff table seemed thrilled to welcome her. Would they welcome him?

He'd missed several more names, but looked over in time to see Mandy Brocklehurst sort into Ravenclaw. They applauded just as loudly as the Hufflepuffs had for the first girl, and John wondered if that level of enthusiasm was simply required. Maybe they were less thrilled in the private of their common rooms.

Gryffindor, Slytherin, more Ravenclaws... John closed his eyes. Maybe, when he put the hat on, it would shout out what felt terribly obvious to him: he didn't belong here. 

The girl who'd lost her toad, Molly something, sat under the hat for a long while before it shouted Gryffindor, and, in her haste to go sit down, she forgot to remove the hat and had to return it to Professor McGonagall blushing a brighter red than her newly striped Gryffindor tie.

Greg nudged him, Mycroft Holmes had been called forward. The hat seemed to be taking even longer with him than it had with Molly. "If he sorts Gryffindor, I'm jumping in the bloody lake. Starkers."

"GRYFFINDOR!"

John choked down hysterical laughter as Greg swore. John turned his head to mutter, "Are you going now, or are you going to wait for your own sorting first?"

"Sod off--"

"Lestrade, Gregory."

Greg grimaced, then walked up to try on the hat. Moments later he was joining his brothers--and Mycroft Holmes--at the Gryffindor table. He looked back at John and grinned, pointing at John before showing off the empty seat beside him. 

In Gryffindor he would have at least one friend.

"Moriarty, James."

John watched Jim Moriarty stroll up to up to sit like a king on the small stool, only for the hat to shout out "SLYTHERIN!" before properly touching his head.

John's nerves came back with a vengeance. There were very few people left, and they went quickly before it was just him and a confident looking black boy.

"Watson, John."

Loud whispers echoed through the hall as John forced himself forward. The hat settled on his head, covering his eyes before, _Difficult. Very difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind either. There’s talent, oh my goodness, yes--and a nice thirst to prove yourself, now that’s interesting..._

All John could think was _Not Slytherin. Please. Not Slytherin._

_Not Slytherin? Are you sure? You could be great you know, it's all here, in your head--_

_I don't_ need _greatness._

_Are you sure? Well, then, better be..._

"GRYFFINDOR!"

**Author's Note:**

> Note: It's doubtful I will consistently add pieces to this. It's probable that I will randomly start a bit from a different book. Goblet of Fire is full of really tempting scenes.


End file.
